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“No, Sir. I like what we do alone.”
“Me too.” Luke stroked my hair.
I loved the intimacy of our interactions, and the way pain was so much more special when it was just between me and the man giving it to me. What I’d done withKyleeven seemed more intimate to me thanthis…
Suddenly, it was all too much. All of it. Everything. I’d wanted to watch, but now I was done. I turned to him. “Actually, Sir, can we go?”
“Absolutely.” Luke stood and took hold of my arm, pulling me up.
As we passed through the main room, Luke shouted in my ear, “Should I leave a message for Ryan with the bartender? Do you think your friend would be interested?”
I nodded, clarifying, “Yes, but hurry. I want to go home.”
Luke frowned. “We can just head out.”
“No, leave the message,” I yelled over the music.
While he talked to a guy with pitch-black hair and a dog collar behind the bar, I glanced around the dance floor. The sexual shenanigans that went down at Tilt-a-Whirl were nothing compared to this. Off to the side there was a woman being fucked in both of her lower holes by two men who were thrusting in and out to the beat of “Personal Jesus.”
Message delivered, Luke threaded his fingers through mine and led me toward the door we’d entered just a short time before. We dodged a short woman walking with a chubby man on a leash at her feet.
Once we were back outside in the alley between warehouses, the moon shining down on the buildings, Luke pulled me to face him, smoothing his hot hands over my even hotter cheeks. “You okay?”
I hiccupped a weird-sounding laugh. “I don’t think this is the place for a romantic like me.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” I cut him off. “I wanted to come. I had no idea I wouldn’t like it.”
Luke searched my eyes and then glanced around. “Come on. Let’s get back in the car. This isn’t the best neighborhood to stand around in the street at night.”
Driving down Magnolia Avenue, headed toward Luke’s house, he squeezed my knee. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I suspected it might be a mistake taking you. I should have gone with my gut.”
“No, I wanted to see it for myself. It was just…” I shook my head.
“It was what?”
I sighed. “When we’re in your basement, do I look like that?”
“Like what?”
“All—” I waved my hands around. “You know.”
“I have no idea what you mean, baby.”
“Do I look crass? Like, I know I’m trash, I’ve always known that—”
“No.And no you’re not.”
“I try really hard to look pretty all the time, but those men and women? They looked sweaty, and like they weretryingvery hard, and…” I groaned. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“You look gorgeous in my basement.”
I nodded. “I thought so. I mean, I hoped so.”
